


Effigy

by ScientificSexpot



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alpha Steve, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, But He Also Has Friends, First attempt at omega verse, Fluff and Angst, Fury Has A Heart, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, No Sex-or-Death, Not Your Usual Omega Fic, Omega Tony, Omega Tony Stark, Omega Verse, Pheromones, Possessive Steve Rogers, Sexual Content, Tony Stark Has Issues, What else is new?, With A Twist, Worldbuilding, kind of, of course, suppressants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-01 13:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4021924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScientificSexpot/pseuds/ScientificSexpot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark doesn't want to be an omega. He shouldn't want to be an omega. He's supposed to be an Alpha. Unfortunately, he no longer has much of a choice in the matter.</p>
<p>Tony doesn't know who he is anymore. </p>
<p>But Steve does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I've only recently been inducted into the wonderful world of the Omega Verse, but I knew instantly that it was something I just had to write for myself. As is stated in the tags, this isn't your typical Omega Verse story. I took some liberties when building my world - as I think we all do - so that the dynamics would best suit my story. Also, "knotting" is not going to be a thing. Because I can't. I just can't. I hope this doesn't deter you from reading and enjoying the story, but... I literally cannot. As for the rest of the worldbuilding, you'll just have to continue to find out!

Anthony Edward Stark – or just “Tony”, as he _much_ preferred to be addressed – was absolutely, without a doubt, completely, and royally screwed. He left the cemetery as soon as the burial was finished, determined to find some solution to the shiny new problem with which he was faced. If there was just one thing in this world that Tony Stark excelled at, it was problem solving.

Doctor Bennett had been an exceptionally good man and an even better physician. He had been the Stark family doctor since Tony was about seven or eight years old. He had never gone to anybody else. _Ever_. So, where was he supposed to find a replacement for the man?

Doc was the only living person who knew. And he had taken it to his grave, just as Howard and Maria had. As soon as the… issue had presented itself, when he was twelve years old and thankfully during summer vacation, they had gone to see Doc and he’d been started on his medication that same day. And it had worked.

Now, though, he had no way to safely procure his medication. The serum had been banned nearly twenty years ago. Tony had only been able to continue his regimen because Doc was a brilliant chemist as well as a brilliant doctor. He had trusted him. How was he supposed to survive now?

It didn’t occur to him until he pulled the comparatively sedate black Corvette into the sublevel parking garage of the Tower. He did know another doctor. A brilliant doctor who was also a brilliant chemist. And who he trusted.

He rushed into the private elevator that led directly to the living quarters on the uppermost levels of the Tower. After confirming that Bruce was home and in his private lab, Tony made a beeline for the room. He needed to get this settled immediately.

He hesitated before keying in his personal pass code. He did trust Bruce. He trusted him with his life on a regular basis. But could he trust him with this? Could he trust the man enough to tell him the one thing that he had fought for two thirds of his life to conceal? He really didn’t have much choice.

He punched in the code and entered the room before he had a chance to change his mind. Bruce turned at the sound of the door and smiled. “Hey, Tony. What brings you to my side of the dungeon?”

Tony gave him a little grin at the private joke. Because his workshop and Bruce’s lab were on the lowest floor of the living quarters and the rest of the team seldom visited, they had dubbed the area “the dungeon”. Well, that and Clint was convinced they conducted human experiments down there.

“I actually came to ask a favor,” he said, his voice more tentative than he had intended, “A- a pretty big favor.”

Bruce set his work aside, devoting his full attention to his unusually somber friend. “What is it?”

Tony stepped further into the room, trying to shake off the nerves that were creeping up his spine, giving him goosebumps. “I need you to cook something up for me. A serum. I have the formula and everything, I just… I lack the skills required.” His chuckle sounded too forced, too painful.

Bruce could tell that something was off. He narrowed his eyes. “What kind of serum?”

“It’s really not a big deal, you know. I wouldn’t even be asking you, but my physician recently passed and he- he was the one who always… handled this. Before.” He was rambling and he knew it and damn it he couldn’t make himself stop. “It’s nothing major, really. I just- I have this condition, see, and I need… this serum to- to not. Have the condition, I mean.”

“What kind of serum, Tony?” Bruce repeated, more sternly this time.

Instinctually, Tony took a step back. He cursed his instincts. “It’s- it’s a… it’s a suppressant, okay?” When Bruce just raised an eyebrow and continued to glare at him, he sighed. “A pheromone suppressant.”

Bruce was startled enough by the admission that he couldn’t speak for a moment. They just stood there, the silence growing thicker by the second as Tony waited for him say something. Anything.

“Why…” he said, when he finally regained the ability, “Why do you need a pheromone suppressant?”

Tony groaned in frustration, running a hand through his hair and completely ruining the hour’s worth of work he’d put into it that morning. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Tony…” His tone was a gentle warning.

He glanced furtively at the door, half expecting to see the entire team standing there. Of course, they weren’t. He was just crazy paranoid. “I’m- I’m an omega.”

Bruce nodded once, like he was satisfied with the answer. Then he collapsed quite abruptly onto the nearest stool, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. Tony just stood there awkwardly, trying to wait patiently for his friend to process everything.

“You- how long?” Bruce asked, not lifting his head.

“I’m- pretty sure I was born this way,” Tony replied, attempting to ease some of the tension in the room with levity.

Bruce’s head snapped up and the expression on his normally kind face was so fierce that Tony took another step back. “Don’t be droll, Tony. How long have you been taking the suppressants?”

He winced. “Since I presented. Twelve years old.”

“ _Why_ , Tony?”

“Look, the reasons aren’t important.” Because he did _not_ want to get into that. “Will you do this for me?”

“Nobody knows?” Bruce asked.

He shook his head. “Nobody but you, now. I- didn’t know who else to go to.”

Bruce stood and paced the length of the lab a few times, seeming to be locked in some kind of inner battle. Eventually, Tony couldn’t take it anymore.

“Well? Will you?”

Bruce stopped directly in front of him. He looked like whatever he was about to say was going to physically hurt him. “No. I won’t.”

Tony _felt_ like he’d been physically hurt. His stomach dropped to his feet, his throat closed painfully, and his heart was dangerously close to bursting from his chest. “What?” he managed to choke out.

“I won’t do it, Tony,” Bruce repeated, “Those drugs are dangerous. You know that. _Everybody_ knows that. They were banned for a reason and I honestly can’t believe you continued taking them all these years.”

“You can’t be serious.” He was going to faint, he just knew it, and wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake? “I- I need that serum. I can’t just- up and come out as… Stark Enterprises would- the stocks would plummet, the press… I’d never get a moment’s rest. And the team- what would they… what would they think? I can’t- Bruce, you have to help me. I- I don’t- I can’t-” Yep, he was hyperventilating now. How nice.

Bruce sprang forward, grabbing him around the shoulders and directing him to a chair. “Sit. Head down, that’s it. Deep breaths, Tony.”

He obeyed, but only because his oxygen starved brain didn’t know how to do anything else at the moment. Stupid brain. When he had calmed enough to speak coherently and without flying into a blind panic, he looked up with imploring eyes. “ _Please_ , Bruce.”

“I- can’t…” Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. “More importantly, I won’t. I won’t allow you to harm yourself this way and I won’t allow you to deny your true self.”

“You won’t _allow_ me?” Tony’s eyes were spitting fire. “This is _exactly_ why I need the suppressants. You’ve known for ten minutes and you’re already spouting your Alpha Orders at me.”

“I’m not speaking as an Alpha. I’m speaking as your friend,” Bruce said quietly, which was somehow more effective than if he’d shouted.

Tony deflated instantly. “Sorry. I just- I don’t want to _be_ an omega. I don’t even know what type of person I’d become if stopped… if I let myself- I can’t, Bruce. I can’t do it. This has been me for so long… what if I lose that?”

“You won’t,” Bruce insisted, “Alpha or omega, you will still be Tony Stark, the most arrogant, sarcastic, stubborn genius on the planet.”

Tony scoffed. “At least _one_ of those was a compliment. And I think Reed has me beat in the arrogance department.”

Bruce shrugged, grinning. “Fair point. How much of that serum do you have left?”

“Enough for five days,” he replied, back to sulking, “So, you really won’t…?”

“No. But I’ll give you five days,” Bruce said, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly, “Five days to tell the team.” He held a hand up when Tony opened his mouth to argue. “Five days, Tony. You tell them in your way or I’ll tell them in mine. There’s no way of knowing what effect those drugs have had on your body. They were banned shortly after their development and I don’t know anybody who’s taken them as long as you have. We need to be prepared for anything.”

Finally, he admitted defeat and nodded. “Fine. I’ll tell them…”

“It’ll be fine.” Bruce stepped back, allowing him room to stand. “Clint’s an omega, too, you know. Nobody treats _him_ any differently than the rest of the team. Well… except Phil, but- that’s to be expected.”

Tony just nodded again, striding out of the lab. As soon as he was in the hallway, his brain was in high gear, assessing all of his options. With or without Bruce, he would find a way to fix this. He had to.

 

It was the fifth day. Tony knew. He’d been counting. And, just in case he’d forgotten, Bruce had been giving him pointed looks all day. Because that wouldn’t make him _nervous_ or anything. Certainly not.

After dinner, a meal which they rarely got to eat with the full ensemble, but had – of course – miraculously managed to today, he was not surprised when Steve cleared his plate for him. He might have chalked it up to the man’s general kindly, boy scout nature. Except that he only ever did it for Tony. It was one of many little things that he seemed to only do for Tony. Whether it was clearing his plate, making sure his coffee was ready in the morning, giving up his favorite chair when he joined them in the living room, or bringing him food when he was caught up in the workshop, Steve seemed to go out of his way to _do things_ for him.

It drove him crazy.

He didn’t like being treated specially. Not by Steve anyway. He tried to convince himself that it was because the man was an Alpha and the constant coddling just served to remind him of his true status. If he were honest, though, he knew it was because it was Steve. He didn’t want him treating him like he was special. He didn’t want to be given any kind of false hope.

He’d held a candle for Captain America since he was a child. With all the stories he heard from his mother and Peggy and even occasionally from his father, it was no surprise that his first crush had been on the ghost of the super soldier with the heart of gold and baby blue eyes.

It had faded as he grew older. In fact, it had faded so completely that by the time he actually met the living legend, it had been nothing more than a silly memory to chuckle at in private moments. But then he had met him. And Steve was more than any of those stories could have ever conveyed.

It was almost stupid how perfect the man was. Kind to a fault without a mean bone in his body, staunch in his defense of the defenseless, and far more intelligent than most gave him credit for. Of course, he wasn’t hard to look at, either.

Nothing would come of it, he reminded himself. Steve was an Alpha and, as far as he knew, so was Tony. He wouldn’t risk the life he’d built for himself for some foolish childhood infatuation that refused to die.

He pushed away from the table, aware that Bruce was watching him even as the others went about their usual nightly routines. Thor would head immediately to the television with Clint, where they would partake in great battles for the good of mankind. Or play Soul Caliber. Whatever. Natasha and Phil would become quickly engrossed in a violent and bloody round of chess. Sometimes backgammon, if they were feeling particularly vicious. And either Steve or Bruce would clean up, depending on whose turn it was. Regardless, it was always _Steve_ who cleared his dishes.

As he passed Bruce, he gave the man a small nod. “I’ll just be a minute,” he said quietly, so only he could hear him, “I just need to check something. Make sure they’re all still here when I get back.”

Bruce smiled proudly, which made what he was about to do all the more agonizing. However, he forced himself to grin convincingly and headed down to the dungeon. Once he was safely within the confines of his workshop, he ordered Jarvis to lock it down. Alpha Protocol. Nobody goes in or out until Tony delivers the override codes.

“Sir, may I remind you that the substance you received came from a less than reputable source?” Jarvis said as he loaded the syringe. “As such, I am dubious of its contents. If you would simply allow me the opportunity to examine the-”

“Mute,” Tony said quickly, feeling a pang of guilt. The AI was just concerned and he had every right to be. The black market really wasn’t the source he’d wanted to use, but he had exhausted all other options. This was his only choice.

“Here goes nothing…”

Aside from the usual sting of the needle, he felt nothing out of the ordinary. The artificial Alpha pheromones became momentarily strengthened before settling back to their normal levels. The pressure in his temples eased little by little until it was barely a tingle. He took a deep breath through his nose and… nothing. Not a trace of omega in the room.

He sighed in relief, thanking a God he didn’t believe in. Most of the time. “Unmute.” He grinned to himself. “See, Jarvis? I told you those guys were on the up and up. There was no reason to-”

He crumpled to the floor, his legs suddenly turning to gelatin. He couldn’t breathe. He tried – he really _tried_ – but hard as he tried no air would come. And the pain! He hadn’t felt pain like this since… It was like his body was on fire, every organ, every muscle, every artery and vein burning him from the inside out.

“Sir, you seem to be having a negative reaction to the serum. You are about to go into respiratory arrest. I am enacting Emergency Override 412 and have informed Doctor Banner.”

His last thought before slipping into a deep, fathomless abyss was, _Fuck._

 

Bruce was trying to resist the urge to hit his teammates. He was really trying. But, so help him God, if _one more person_ said the phrase, “So Tony’s an omega?” he was going to snap. Certainly nobody would blame him after what had just happened.

All Jarvis had said was that Tony had gone into respiratory arrest and needed immediate medical attention. Bruce had jumped to his feet and been halfway down the stairs before anybody else even twitched. The AI explained the rest on the way down.

Refused by his friend, Tony had turned to the black market for suppressants. He had miscalculated and only had enough for his morning dose that day and, against Jarvis’ advice, had decided to field test his newly acquired serum. Which had apparently been tainted. Fantastic.

He’d found Tony on the floor, his lips a dangerous shade of blue. Deciding that getting him to breathe was the most important thing, he had grabbed one of the many medical bags he had stashed around the Tower. The others had arrived shortly after him, each shouting their own questions, trying to be heard above the rest.

“Enough!” he had bellowed, startling them, “Natasha, get over here. You have the steadiest hands and I need some help with this.”

She followed orders well when it counted. He’d give her that. As they worked on Tony, he barked out other orders for the rest of them. Clint was sent to pack the unconscious man a bag containing clean clothes and any necessary toiletries. Phil called for a SHIELD medical transport. He also put in a call to a close friend of his – a doctor – who would be waiting for them when they arrived at the SHIELD med bay. Steve and Thor were ordered to stay silent and out of the way.

They had gotten Tony breathing again, but only after intubating him and respirating him manually. Bruce had been allowed to ride in the transport with him and he was thankful for that. The others weren’t far behind, though. They had arrived at the facility not more than two minutes after them.

As soon as Tony had been transferred into the ICU and turned over to the capable hands of Phil’s friend, Agent Simmons they were told, the barrage of questions had begun.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know everything that I know, okay? He’s an omega. He’s been taking suppressants since he presented at twelve years. His family physician had kept the secret and continued supplying him with the drugs until his death a week ago. Knowing that he would run out of the serum, he bought some off the black market. It was obviously a bad batch. You can’t possibly have any more questions.”

“You’re leaving out some pretty important information,” said Clint, giving him a challenging look, “Jarvis said he went to the black market because you refused him. What, exactly, did you refuse?”

Bruce had been trying _extremely_ hard not to think about that, about the role he had played in his friend’s near death. His very much still possible death. Apparently, he was not to be allowed that luxury.

“Tony came to me after the funeral, five days ago,” he explained quietly, avoiding their no doubt accusing eyes, “He confessed his situation to me and asked if I would be Doctor Bennett’s replacement. If I would- make the suppressants for him. I guess Bennett had developed his own formula or something. I don’t know. I told him no.”

“As well you should have,” stated Natasha firmly, “Suppressants are not only illegal, but incredibly dangerous. He-”

“That’s the same thing I told him,” said Bruce, sighing, “I told him he had until his supply ran out to tell you guys the truth. Or I would. I gave him a stupid ultimatum when I should have given him my support and look where we ended up. Because of me, Tony could…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say the words.

“You did exactly what any of us would have done,” said Thor, leaning forward to grasp his shoulder tightly for a moment, “You should not blame yourself for this.”

Bruce tried to smile, but it was the barest twitch. “I know. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help feeling at least partly responsible. I could have eased him off of them. Supported him through the transition. Helped him cope. _Something_.”

“Did he tell you _why_ he took the suppressants?” asked Phil.

Bruce shook his head. “He said the reason wasn’t important and I- didn’t want to press. He already seemed pretty upset.”

Steve had remained silent through the entire exchange. In fact, he hadn’t said a word to anybody since he heard the words “pheromone suppressants”. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know how to feel. Angry because Tony had lied to them and gotten himself into trouble? Hurt because the man hadn’t trusted them enough to tell them the truth? Terrified because somebody who had grown to be one of his closest friends was at this very moment fighting for his life? Or… maybe just a bit hopeful. Because somebody he had always found attractive and had come to like in a different way might finally be within his reach.

Apparently his brain had settled for an infuriating mixture of them all. And since he didn’t trust himself to speak without growling or screaming, he chose to sit in continued silence. He would speak only when his thoughts were more organized and he could get the sight of Tony, limp and unmoving on the workshop floor, out of his head.

He might never speak again.

It was several hours more before Agent Simmons came to find them in the waiting room. Steve stood with the rest of them and, seeing the look on her face, felt his heart leap into his throat. He remembered that look. It was the same look the doctor had worn when he’d told him that his mother… hadn’t made it.

“Is he…?” Clint sounded choked, but he seemed to be the only one with the ability to form words.

Simmons shook her head and they gave identical sighs of relief. “He’s breathing normally on his own and we managed to avoid full scale cardiac arrest. He is stable, but…”

Bruce looked at her sharply. “But?”

“He’s still unconscious. And it’s too deep to be called a natural sleep,” she stated.

“He’s- in a coma?” Bruce felt like he’d been kicked by a horse.

“That’s the thing. It’s not,” she replied, looking just as confused as they felt, “It’s- something in between.”

“When will he wake up?” Clint demanded.

She sighed. “It could be a few days. Or… it could be never. I think it’s up to him now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourself for some rather Out Of Character moments for poor Tony in the chapters to come. I tried my best to explain it and I promise that it gets better - really it does! - but... well, you'll see. It's the Omegaverse, right? Crazy shit happens here all the time! (Certainly some crazier shit than what I write...) 
> 
> Thanks for the absolutely overwhelming support, guys! It's thanks to you that this chapter came out so quickly! :)

The next three days were the longest three days of their lives. Or they were at least in the top ten. They spent most of their time in the med bay, either prowling around the waiting room or taking turns spending time with Tony. They each had their own way of attempting to convince him that waking up would be a good idea.

Phil explained to him – in excruciating detail – the amount of paperwork he would have to fill out as soon as he was well enough. He knew that Clint would throw a fit if he knew, shout at him that that was the least possible effective method of persuasion a person could use on Tony Stark, but… he was honestly hoping that he would wake up just to tell him where he could put all of his “god damned useless paperwork”.

Clint told him every dirty joke he’d ever heard. Literally. Every single one of them. And when he ran out, he used his phone to look up dirty science jokes. Thor regaled him with tales from Asgard about brave and mighty warriors who also just happened to be omegas. Natasha read to him from magazines she knew he liked. Bruce mostly begged him to wake up and apologized for not understanding and making him feel like he had to do something so stupid.

Steve just sat quietly and held his hand.

Pepper and Rhodey joined them in the waiting room that first night. Pepper had taken the next few days off from her work and Rhodey had apparently told his CO that he was taking the suit and leaving and if he had a problem with, he could just shove it. Something that a beta would not normally be allowed to say to an Alpha, let alone to their commanding officer, but when that beta was also War Machine… well, you tended to make exceptions.

They were distraught when they found out what had happened. Pepper was absolutely beside herself when she found out that Tony had lied to her for so many years. Rhodey was a little more understanding, but no less upset at the state of his best friend. Steve had been surprised that they were unaware. He thought for sure that _they_ , at least, would have been trusted enough to know the truth.

It was a little after noon on the second day that Tony’s scent started to shift. It became a confusing mix of Alpha and omega that made it difficult for them to remain in the room for long periods of time. So they simply took shorter shifts in the room. None of them were willing to let it stop them altogether. They refused to let him wake up alone.

On the third day, they were joined by Bucky and Sam, who until then had been away on a mission. Nobody really wanted to know what matter had required Falcon and the Winter Soldier to team up, and they knew they wouldn’t get an answer even if they asked, so they didn’t. They were both upset, but Sam was a little more so. He and Tony had become fast friends, sharing a penchant for anything fast and dangerous as well as for annoying Steve.

Bucky was more worried about Steve, though. He had never seen his friend so… he didn’t even have a word for it. He seemed very calm and quiet, almost unaffected, but Bucky noticed the stiffness in his muscles, the way he tensed any time somebody went into Tony’s room, the way his jaw clenched whenever they brought up the man’s hidden omega status.

“Has he spoken at all?” Bucky asked Natasha quietly.

She glanced at Steve, who surprisingly didn’t seem to notice. Steve noticed _everything_. “Not since…” Bucky nodded, knowing what she meant. “He’s hardly left the med bay, either. I think he goes home once a day, to shower. And he goes to the cafeteria to get food. But he eats in that chair. Christ, Bucky, he _sleeps_ in that chair. I think he’d be sleeping in the room, but Bruce claimed that spot.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her. “I notice the rest of you aren’t exactly gallivanting about the city.”

“Okay, so we’ve been sleeping here, too. But not in the waiting room,” she stated, “The rest of us have bunks in the overnight quarters.”

“So, he’s worried. We’re all worried,” Bucky said, “Everybody deals with it differently, you know. It’s just… the silence is weird. Especially for him. I expected to find Captain Henpeck, telling you all to eat and get some rest, asking if anybody wants coffee. You know… doing his thing. Not this.”

“I guess he cared about Tony more than we knew,” she said, shrugging. Inwardly, she was wondering just how deep that care actually went. Outwardly, she said nothing more, deciding instead to find Clint and make sure he was okay.

Clint actually seemed most upset by the situation at whole. He couldn’t understand why he’d gone to such lengths to conceal himself. He knew it was rough sometimes, being a male omega. Out of the entire population, 57% of people presented as betas, 30% as Alphas, and only 13% as omegas. And out of that, just 1% of omegas were male. It wasn’t as rare as an albino crocodile, but they were still a heavy minority.

So, yeah. He knew it was rough. He knew that some people still looked at him differently, that some people thought he was strange or unnatural. Hell, he’d even been called an abomination. That particular ass hole was lucky to be alive. He could have understood it twenty years ago, when omegas were still viewed as _less_ by the general population and by the legal system. He probably could have even understood it fifteen years ago, when it was still against the law for omegas to hold positions of authority – like the CEO of a major corporation.

But he could not understand why he had continued to take them all these years. Knowing that they were harmful, knowing that omega rights were improving – had improved vastly over the years – _why_ had he continued doing that to himself. He had gone through years of bullying and abuse because of the way he’d been born, but he had never hidden it. He’d always been proud of who he was, of _what_ he was.

He had to stop thinking about it. Thinking about it always led to him punching some poor, unsuspecting wall. And if he split one more knuckle, Phil had said he’d have him sedated. Phil didn’t make idle threats.

“You okay?” asked Natasha, joining him on the sofa.

He was grateful for the company. Phil was currently speaking with Fury – who, oddly, had also been spending a great deal of time in the waiting room – and sitting there with only Steve directly across from him was about the least comforting thing he could think of.

“I’m fine,” he replied, “Just… confused. Worried. Scared. Not to mention hurt and pissed off and- but I’m fine. Totally fine.” Sighing, he leaned to the side, letting his head rest on her shoulder. “I’m so not fine. I’m about as far from fine as you can get. I can’t even _see_ fine from where I’m standing.”

She smiled, rubbing her cheek on his hair. “We’re all feeling those things. But I have confidence that everything will work out alright. He _will_ wake up.”

“How do you know?” asked Clint.

“Because I told him what I’d do to him if he didn’t,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

He huffed out a little chuckle at that. “Thanks.”

She took his hand and squeezed it lightly. “Anytime.”

Bruce was taking his last shift in the room for the night. At some point during the day, Tony’s pheromones had settled on the omega side of the spectrum, making it much easier to spend time with him. Unfortunately, it also meant that Bruce’s mind was even more confused. He could see that it was Tony in the bed. He knew, logically, that Tony was still Tony, his best friend. But his best friend smelled like an omega. He hadn’t before, but now he did. He was an Alpha before. He was an omega now.

For some reason, that was a difficult thing for his hindbrain to comprehend. And the Other Guy wasn’t making it any easier. _He_ was even more confused than Bruce.

“Please, Tony.” He was begging again. He couldn’t do much else in the situation. “Please wake up. Just open your eyes, even for a minute. I’m sorry I didn’t- I should have done more. I know that now. You have sufficiently taught me my lesson, so… you can wake up now.” He leaned forward to take his hand. “Please. You have to wake up.”

There was a momentary tightening on his hand. He looked up so fast he may have pulled a muscle in his neck. “Tony? Wake up, Tony. Wake up.”

There it was again. This time, though, it was followed by a disgruntled noise. And then Tony’s eyelids fluttered open, settling on Bruce. He sighed, shaking his hand loose and closing his eyes again. “Five more minutes…”

Bruce was up and at the door in half a second. “He’s awake.”

Tony’s eyes shot open, his heart racing in his chest, when he realized he was not at home. He was not home, not in his room, and… why was he in a hospital? _Oh shit_ … That was right. Tainted suppressants. Wait. How long was he in the hospital? Had it been more than twelve hours? He probably needed another dose, right? He should get home and-

He suddenly couldn’t think anymore. Mostly because he was far too busy having a panic attack as his room was flooded with people. Flooded with Alphas. Seven, to be precise, but his brain had no time for precision. His brain barely had time for breathing.

Good God, that was a lot of Alphas. A lot of angry Alphas. A lot of angry Alphas who were apparently angry with _him_. Why were they angry with him? What had he done? They were asking him questions, but he couldn’t answer. He couldn’t even really hear what they were saying. The scent of their anger was overwhelming and it was all directed at him and he couldn’t breathe. No wonder they were angry, he couldn’t even breathe right.

He pressed himself as close to the headboard as he could, drawing his knees up to his chest and just tried to focus on breathing. Maybe if he could breathe, he could answer their questions and they wouldn’t be so angry. But he couldn’t. He tried, but he couldn’t. He didn’t even notice the tears when they came or the shocked silence that followed. He didn’t realize that he had started apologizing, over and over again, even though he didn’t know what he was apologizing for.

He did, however, notice when one of them moved closer and reached out to touch him. He scurried away as fast as he could, still apologizing, and nearly fell off the bed, pulling the IV half out of his arm in the process. He hissed in pain, but continued apologizing.

“What are you people doing?!” somebody bellowed.

Steve, who had heard the pained sound from Tony and had been about to rush to his aid, rounded on the newcomer. He snarled at her, which made her pause. Good.

She recovered quickly enough, though. “Don’t you give me any of your Alpha nonsense.” Simmons swept past them, going immediately to Tony. He apologized to her, too, cringing away from her hands, and she turned an icy glare on the rest of them. “Get. Out.”

Steve, Bruce, and Thor growled at her that time.

“I don’t care what your status is,” she said firmly, “I am the doctor here, this is _my_ patient, and if you have any sense of self-preservation, you will _vacate_ this room in the next six seconds! Out! All of you! You’ve scared him half to death and- look at this!” She gestured to his arm, where the IV was dangling painfully from his hand. “He’s gone and hurt himself because of you! Where do you get off storming in here- he _just woke up_! He’s still confused and you’re just… you’re- OUT!”

Steve took a threatening step toward her, but Bucky and Thor – who had snapped out of his rage when he’d realized that Tony really was scared – grabbed him by the arms and hauled him bodily from the room. Before he did something he would regret. The rest followed suit, but not before Fury left an order to be kept apprised of the situation.

“Barton,” she said as Clint tried to leave, “You stay and help me here.”

He nodded, though he didn’t know how much help he’d be. It turned out, he was a great help. As soon as the others were gone, Tony collapsed onto the bed, shuddering with the force of his sobs. Clint winced as he moved forward. He’d never seen the man lose it like this.

“Hey…” he said hesitantly. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do here.

Simmons gave him a pointed look, shifting her eyes to Tony as she pulled the IV the rest of the way out as gently as she could. He took a deep breath, sitting on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, he rested a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“Hey, man. Look, it’s- it’s not a big deal. We were all just… really worried, you know?” he said, “They’re a bunch of idiots, but they meant well. I think.”

Tony turned and hid his face in the pillow. He didn’t want _anybody_ to see him at that moment. He felt awful. Worse that awful. He felt pathetic. Weak. He felt like everything he had never wanted to feel like. He forced himself to calm down, which was much easier without all of those damned Alpha pheromones clogging up the air.

When he felt steady enough to speak, he looked up at Clint. “It’s been more than twelve hours, hasn’t it?”

That startled a laugh out of him. “Jesus, Tony, it’s been three days. You almost _died_. When we found you, you weren’t breathing. Your- your lips were turning blue. Bruce had to- I don’t even want to talk about what Bruce had to do.” Overcome with emotion and allowing himself a momentary lapse in his unflappable composure, he pulled Tony into a brief, but fierce, hug.

Tony grinned wryly when he was released. “You really were worried.”

“You’re damn right. Idiot.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You had us all scared out of our minds.”

“Sorry…” was all Tony could manage. He hadn’t realized it was that bad. Three days was a long time to… “ _Three days?_ ”

Clint winced again, sensing another possible breakdown. “Yeah, Tony. Three days.”

“And… the whole team is here?” he asked.

Clint nodded. “Plus Pepper and Rhodey. And Fury. Bucky and Sam just got here today.”

He could feel himself starting to panic again. They knew. They all knew. He couldn’t hide it anymore, couldn’t keep it secret. They _knew_. He shook his head, closing his eyes tightly. “Thanks for all your help, Doc, but I think I’ll go back to sleep now.”

“You can’t run from this, Tony,” Clint said, but in the gentlest way he could, “They know- we know the truth now. You’re going to have to face this. Face them.”

He looked at him, his eyes shining. “I can’t. You don’t understand. I _can’t_ face them. Not like this. Not as…” He looked away, seeming to realize to whom he was speaking.

“Not as what?” Clint asked, feeling a bit defensive, “As an omega?”

“Oh, shut it, both of you,” Simmons said, rolling her eyes, “I can’t keep them out forever, Tony. I- _can_ I call you Tony?”

He laughed abruptly, probably a little too amused by her sudden concern for proper etiquette. “Considering you know my deepest darkest secret and kind of saved my life, you can pretty much call me whatever you want.”

“Oh. Good,” she said, “Well, I can’t keep them out forever. I have some authority as your doctor, but… I’m not sure that will hold them for much longer. And we have to get you home.”

“Home? Now?” He felt his pulse spike.

She put a comforting hand on his head, looking him straight in the eyes. “Calm down, please.” Oddly enough, it worked. He relaxed almost instantly. “Yes, home. And yes, now. Listen very closely, Tony. What you’re feeling now is mild compared to what’s coming. I don’t mean to frighten you, but you need to know this.”

Clint was curious now and more than a little worried. “I thought- once he woke up, he’d be okay.”

“He is out of danger. That’s true,” she said, keeping her hand in place and maintaining eye contact as she, too, sat on the bed, “You’ve been on those suppressants for a very long time. Too long. Few people in the U.S. or any civilized country in the world have ever taken them as long as you. But I’ve seen it before, in less developed countries. Your body chemistry has been thrown for quite the loop. You’re going to go through… a kind of withdrawal.”

“Like… celebrity rehab withdrawal?” Tony tried a half-hearted joke.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Some of the symptoms may be similar. The body doesn’t get addicted to suppressants the way it gets addicted to drugs or alcohol, though. No, it’s more like your body is going to correct everything that the suppressants did to it.”

“Is it going to be painful?” he asked.

She didn’t want to lie. “It can be. It is very physically taxing, but it’s even more strenuous to the mind. And it’s going to take a while. In cases similar to yours, I’ve seen it take up to a month. I’d have a more specific answer if I knew what was in the serum you’ve been taking.”

“I’ll have Jarvis e-mail you the formula,” Tony said, still trying to process everything, “So this… this is the calm _before_ the storm? I’m going to get even crazier?”

“Not necessarily crazy, but… yes,” she admitted, “You’re going to get a _lot_ crazier. I’m sorry, Tony. I really am, but this _is_ necessary. I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to ease your burden as much as possible.”

“You know what would really ease my burden?” he said coldly, “If you people would just give me my damn suppressants.” When they both opened their mouths he waved a hand at them. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and smiled bitterly at them. “I know, I know. Not gonna happen. Can you at least guarantee me some privacy while I shower and change? I’m sitting here in three days worth of hospital smell.”

Simmons nodded. “Clint, if you could go explain this to the… others?”

“Oh sure,” he said, grimacing as he headed for the door, “Leave the lunatics to me…”

Chaos. That was the only word Clint could think of to describe the waiting room. He shut the door silently behind him, hoping that nobody would notice him before he could report to Phil. But such things are never meant to be.

Bucky still had a good hold on Steve, his mechanical arm giving him a bit of an advantage, when the man caught sight of him exiting the room. Steve growled, trying to lunge for him. Phil sprang from his seat, but Clint handled things first.

Nobody even saw him move. Nobody ever did. He leveled the tranquilizer gun on Steve, his expression impassive. “You just settle down there, buddy.”

Steve blinked at him. Evidently, staring down the barrel of a gun – tranquilizer or not – was enough to curb some of his surface temper. “Where did you get that?”

“Swiped it off of Simmons,” he stated, “I think she calls it a ‘Night-Night Gun’.” He shrugged, grinning, but didn’t lower the weapon. “You gonna make me use it?”

Steve appeared to think about it for a moment, but he eventually shook his head. “No. I’m- I’m good. Thanks.”

“Hey, any time you need somebody to pull a gun on you, just let me know,” Clint said, finally dropping his arm. He kept the gun in his hand, though, and he didn’t turn his back on the man as he walked over to Phil.

“You’re going to get yourself killed someday. You know that, right?” Phil said, glaring at him.

Clint just laughed. “Puh-lease. I had the situation completely under control.”

“What about the- other situation?” Phil asked, “Where do we stand with that?”

Steve tensed and his hand tightened on the gun. Bruce just looked up from his chair, his face full of hope. “We can take him home soon,” Clint answered, “But… he’s not out of the woods yet.” Before they could start yelling or breaking things or whatever Alphas did when they were upset, he pressed on. “He’s not in any danger of dying. He’s just got a- a rough spell ahead of him.”

“What do you mean, a _rough spell_?” Pepper growled.

“Clint?” Simmons called softly from the door, “Would you mind trading with me? Apparently, even though I’m nothing if not professional, he refuses to undress while I’m in the room.”

“Gladly,” he said, sighing in relief as he slipped back into the room.

“Explain, please,” Phil said, “What’s this about a rough spell?”

“Tony’s body will be going through some changes over the next… well, it could take nearly a month,” she said, moving to stand next to Phil. She was fairly confident she was safest with him. “The suppressants altered his body chemistry to make him appear as an Alpha. This process – which we call withdrawal only because we can’t think of a more appropriate term – is going to correct that. He’s going to be in a fair amount of pain and very weak during this time, so you’ll all need to be _gentle_ and _supportive_.”

“What else can we expect?” Bruce asked, already committing everything she said to memory.

“It’s different for everybody, but it my experience the most common symptoms are restlessness, irritability, insomnia, pain of course, depression. He’s also likely to have muscle tension, tremors, nausea and vomiting, difficulty breathing, and possibly heart palpitations. In extreme cases, such as this, the omega has also been know to suffer from delirium and hallucinations,” she explained, watching their faces darken as she spoke, “And… there is one other thing that you’re going to need to be careful of.”

“What’s that?” Steve asked, his voice hoarse.

She took a deep breath. “He’s going to be quite feverish, which will make him sweat. A lot. But…” She looked at Phil, hoping to find some support, but he seemed to be fixated on a spot on the ceiling. “Essentially, he’s going to be sweating pure pheromones. Omega pheromones.”

You could have heard a pin drop. Then Phil cursed. Which was something he very rarely did. “Anything else?” he said, sounding strained.

“Yes,” she stated, giving them all her sternest look, “This is going to be a very emotional time for him. I’m allowing him to go home because I think that’s where he’ll be most comfortable. But if any of you…” Her gaze settled on Steve. “Feel that you won’t be able to maintain a cool head, you should tell me now. We can make arrangements to keep him here or have you sent elsewhere.”

Steve sighed when they all turned to look at him. “I suppose I have been behaving like an ass these past few days,” he said, “And I apologize for that. But I’ll be fine.” _I think._ “Really. He’s going to need us, right?”

Simmons smiled brightly. “He is. He might scream at you and rant and rave and call you horrible things, but he’ll need all of you. I’ll be around, of course. I’ll need to monitor him closely, so I’ll be around often. But… you’re the ones who are really going to help him through this.”

“We will take the utmost care to ensure his safety and wellbeing. Of this, I can assure you,” Thor said, “He could not be in better hands.”

“You’ll forgive me if these last twenty minutes have given me reason to doubt that,” she stated dryly, raising an accusing eyebrow at them.

“If nothing else, _I’ll_ make sure they behave,” Natasha said, smirking.

Simmons grinned. “You, I actually trust.”

“Um…” Clint joined them once more, looking a bit hesitant. “Tony wants to know when it’s okay to leave.”

“Whenever he’s ready,” Simmons replied.

Bruce looked surprised. “Wouldn’t you normally… keep him a while? Run some tests, make sure he’s stable enough to go?”

She nodded. “Normally, yes. But he’s been stable this entire time. And the sooner he gets home, the better.”

“Okay,” Clint said, “Well, he’s ready. But…”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “But?”

“He said he doesn’t want to see any of you,” he said, moving his hand to the tranq gun at his waist, “More specifically, he doesn’t want any of you to see _him_.”

Phil rolled his eyes, striding to the door. He nudged Clint aside and entered before anybody could ask what he thought he was doing. As soon as he was in the room, Tony stiffened. He wasn’t even facing him, didn’t even know who had walked in, but he could smell that it was an Alpha.

“Tony,” Phil said gently, speaking to him like a small, frightened child.

He turned slowly at the sound of his voice, barely resisting the urge to flinch away from somebody whom he logically understood would never hurt him. Why was he behaving like this? He’d never been affected by stupid pheromones this way before. “What- what do you want?”

Phil didn’t move. He didn’t approach him, didn’t reach out to him. He didn’t even twitch. “Try to take a deep breath, Tony. In through the nose, out through the mouth, okay?” He noted that the man obeyed almost instantly. “What do you smell?”

“Alpha,” he said, grimacing. Then he took another deep breath and relaxed just the tiniest bit. “It’s different from the others. Why is it different?”

“Because I’m bonded, that’s why,” Phil stated, smiling at him, “You know that. I have Clint. I have absolutely no need – or desire, frankly – for another omega. The one I’ve got is already more than I can handle, thank you.”

Tony relaxed a little more. “Why didn’t I notice before? That you smell different.” He would never admit it out loud, not in a million years, but it was almost a… comforting smell. Like clean, warm laundry.

“Probably because the suppressants kept you from being affected by Alpha pheromones,” Phil replied, “You know that, too.”

He did know that. He knew all of this. He relaxed fully, sitting heavily on the bed. This was _Phil_ for God’s sake. Phil wasn’t a threat. Phil was… Phil. Probably the closest thing to a genuine parental figure he’d ever had, though he’d never admit that either.

“I’m- I’m a mess,” he said, so quietly that Phil almost didn’t hear him.

He took a shot in the dark and walked forward. When Tony didn’t tense or flee, he sat down next to him. “Yes, you are.” He laughed at the irritated expression Tony gave him. “Speaking purely biologically, you are a mess. But it’s okay to be a mess right now.”

“It is?” he said, and he sounded so broken that Phil almost tried to hug him.

“Of course it is,” he said instead.

Tony felt the tears come and growled, pressing his palms over his eyes. “I really fucking hate this, you know. God, this is so dumb!”

“It’s perfectly natural to cry, Tony,” Phil said.

“Not that,” he stated, not moving his hands, “This. This whole stupid situation. I never wanted- Damn it, I never wanted any of you to know!”

Phil did reach out then, placing a comforting arm around his shoulders, drawing him closer. “We do, though.” He felt Tony tense and continued. “We know everything, and we’re still here. Nobody left, nobody walked away. We practically lived in that waiting room for three day, waiting for you.”

He lowered his hands. “You did?” God, he sounded so small. It was heartbreaking to see him this way.

But Phil didn’t let that show. He just grinned. “There’s a chair out there that I think has a permanent Steve shaped indentation.”

Tony was silent for a moment and Phil wondered if mentioning Steve had been a bad idea. “I am sorry, you know. I shouldn’t have- it was stupid. I was stupid.”

“Everybody’s stupid sometimes,” Phil said, glad that he was calm enough to properly apologize.

“Not me,” Tony muttered, making him grin.

Phil released him and stood. “Will you come out now? I give you my word that nobody will get closer to you than you’re comfortable with, but… it would do a lot to settle them down if they could just see that you’re alright.”

Tony scowled. “Nobody would be making this much of a fuss if I wasn’t an omega.”

Phil raised an eyebrow at him. “If you really think that’s true, you’re a bigger idiot than we give you credit for.”

He was right. Tony knew that. There had been occasions when he’d been injured in battle, or Natasha had, or Steve or Bruce. The team had behaved this same way in those times. And when they found out Phil was alive… Alpha, beta, or omega. It didn’t matter. When one of their own was hurt, it was the same song and dance.

“Fine,” he said finally, slinging the duffle Clint had given him over his shoulder, “But I don’t want them within ten feet of me.”

“I can give you five feet. Anything more is pushing it,” Phil said.

Tony nodded. “Deal.”

“Try to remember, Tony,” Phil said quietly as he opened the door for him, “These people are your friends. Your family. You scared the hell out of them and they’re upset, but they’re not going to hurt you.”

He nodded again, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Seriously, if he was going to dissolve into a blubbering mess at the drop of a hat for the rest of his life, he wasn’t going to last long.

Phil made good on his promise. Using every ounce of authority he had – which was quite a lot – he forced them to keep a comfortable distance. Tony tried to grin at them like he always did, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t keep up the act any more. He couldn’t pretend that nothing had changed when _everything_ had changed.

Without realizing it, he kept his head down, eyes on the floor. Everything about his posture screamed submission. He couldn’t look at them, though. Not when they were giving him those sad, pitying looks. Not when Pepper was crying like that. Not when Bruce was holding back tears of his own as he apologized to _him_.

Not when Steve was staring at him so… intently.

“Can…” He forced himself to speak, even while every instinct he had was telling him to keep his mouth shut. “Can you all please stop?”

Everything ceased and he almost wished he had let them carry on.

“Do you need something, Tony?” Rhodey asked, stepping forward, ignoring Phil’s warning glare.

Tony finally looked up, drawing strength from his oldest and closest friend. “What I need is for all of you to stop freaking out. And scotch. Lots and lots of scotch.”

Rhodey laughed and the sound was so familiar and so _normal_ that he couldn’t take it. It was the barest of movements, just a subtle shift, but Rhodey caught it. Tony knew he would. Needing no further permission, he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around his friend.

Tony rested forehead against Rhodey’s chest and was reminded for a moment of that day in the desert. He’d been on the fritz then, too. The suppressants Yinsen had made for him weren’t exactly Doc Bennett quality. That had been when he’d decided to memorize the formula himself.

“Man, you gotta stop scaring me like this,” Rhodey said, chuckling, “I’m getting too old for it. My heart can’t take it like it used to.”

“Are you mad?” Tony asked quietly, trying to disregard the other people in the room for the moment. This close to Rhodey, all he could smell was Rhodey. And he’d always found the scent reassuring.

“You’re damn right I’m mad,” he stated, “But not for any reason you’re probably thinking of. And this isn’t the time. Right now, I’m just glad you’re awake.”

“Sorry.” Tony tried to chuckle. “If it makes you feel any better, I think I’ve learned my lesson about black market goods.”

Rhodey tensed, squeezing him a bit tighter. “Too soon, Tony.”

“Probably…” he said, back to being quiet and meek, “They’re going to take me home.”

“I know,” Rhodey said, looking at Phil over the top of his head. The man nodded and he smiled. “I’d ask if you want to ride with me, but I came in the suit.”

Tony looked up at him quickly. “You’re coming?”

“Naturally,” Rhodey stated, grinning at him, “I’m not about to leave you with these fools.”

Because the statement made Tony laugh and because the conversation seemed to be making him feel better, nobody took offense to that.

“Come on,” Natasha said, also coming closer than Phil had designated, “You can ride with me and Clint.”

Steve almost argued, but Bucky advised him to shut the hell up. With an elbow to the stomach. A metal elbow. When he saw how quick Tony was to agree, he realized it was probably for the best.

Simmons told him she’d be by regularly to check on him and he surprised them by thanking her. Fury also said he’d be stopping in sometimes and he _really_ surprised them by ribbing the Director of SHIELD about his motherly side. Apparently, _Fury_ didn’t intimidate him the way the rest of them did.

Tony was glad Phil had explained the whole bonded pheromone thing. The last person he wanted to cower from was Nick Fury. He might start thinking he could tell him what to do.

As soon as he was back in the Tower, he retired to his room. Or he wanted to. For some reason, he couldn’t get his feet to cooperate. It was like he was stuck to the living room floor. He didn’t want to be there and they were all looking at him and he just wanted to go to his room. Why couldn’t he just go to his room?

Phil noticed his little inner battle and sighed. “Do you want to go to your room, Tony?”

Thank God for Phil’s freaky mind reading abilities! “Yes, please,” he said quietly.

“Go. But take Clint,” Phil said, then, to Clint, he added, “Let us know as soon as anything changes.”

Clint nodded, following Tony up the stairs.

“I don’t know why you have to come,” Tony grumbled as soon as they were far enough away that the _Alphas_ weren’t invading his olfactory senses, “I don’t need a damn babysitter.”

“You heard Simmons,” Clint said, shutting the bedroom door behind them, “You may feel fine now, but it’s going to get worse before it really gets better.”

Tony scowled at him. “Thanks for the reminder.” He kicked his shoes off and tossed his jacket in a corner before flopping face down on his bed. “Jarvis should have just let me die…”

Clint froze. “You- you don’t mean that?”

He rolled onto his back. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill myself. I don’t believe in suicide.”

“But… you don’t, do you?” Clint said, still unable to move.

Tony was silent for a long time. “I don’t know. Maybe I do,” he eventually said, closing his eyes.

Clint might have flown into a defensive rage if he wasn’t so busy being shocked and worried. He forced himself to cross the room, dragging the desk chair over to the side of the bed. “So… that’s how you really feel? Better dead than an omega?”

Tony looked at him quickly. “No, I- no. Of course not. I mean… for me, maybe, I don’t know. But I’m- not like you. I’m not…” He trailed off, hoping that somehow Clint would understand something that he didn’t fully understand himself.

Oddly enough, he seemed to. Clint smiled wryly. “I get it. And I’m choosing to take it as a compliment.”

“I _meant_ it as one,” Tony grumbled.

They didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. Then… “Why do you hate it so much?”

“Hmm?” Tony responded. He’d closed his eyes again.

“Why do you hate being an omega so much?” Clint asked again.

He shrugged. “It’s not important.”

Clint scoffed. “It’s only about the most important thing we could talk about right now.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he snapped, rolling over onto his side with his back to the man, “Hit the light, would you? I’d like to get some sleep.”

He almost pointed out that he’d been sleeping for three days, but he’d heard the tightness in his tone. He turned the lights out without another word, settling into the chair and preparing for a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot more angst and a tiny bit more Worldbuilding in this one. And also some fluff. Because I can't do angst without some fluff to soften it up. Lol. Enjoy!

At some point in the night, Clint had actually managed to fall asleep. He knew that he had fallen asleep because, at about 4 o’clock in the morning, he was awakened by a strange noise. He was on his feet, alert and aware in an instant.

He heard the noise again, but now he recognized it for what it was. A muffled scream. “Jarvis, lights.”

It didn’t take his eyes long to adjust to the abrupt brightness. He wasn’t called Hawkeye for nothing. Unfortunately, what he saw had him wishing he’d left the lights off. Tony was lying on the bed, every muscle in his body tensed painfully. His eyes were screwed shut and he was biting his lip hard enough that it was bleeding. That explained the muffled part of the scream.

“Jarvis, tell Phil to bring Bruce,” he ordered.

Tony shook his head, then made a strangled sound as he was wracked by what Clint could only describe as some kind of seizure. Whatever it was, it looked _painful_ , the way his back arched off the bed and his whole body shook.

As soon as it passed, Tony spoke. “Don’t…” His voice was completely wrecked. “Don’t need them. ‘M fine…”

“Bull shit,” Clint stated, glad when Phil chose that moment to arrive, Bruce in tow.

“Oh, God…” Bruce breathed, going to work immediately. He pulled a syringe out of his bag and a bottle. Tony was still shaking his head, violently now. The moment they had entered the room, he had whimpered pathetically and now he was trying his best to move away from them. “Clint, I need you to hold his arm in place.”

“No… don’t want it,” Tony sobbed, in too much pain to care that he was crying.

“Tony, this is a muscle relaxant,” Bruce said gently, “It’s going to make some of the pain go away. Do you understand?”

He nodded, but didn’t open his eyes. Clint held his arm tightly as Bruce injected him with the medication. It took a few moments, but eventually they could see him start to relax. He was still shaking, though, and Clint hated that they couldn’t do more for him.

“Clint, go get him a bottle of water,” Bruce instructed, “And Phil, could you bring a cool, damp washcloth from the bathroom? I think the fever has already set in.”

They did as they were told and when Clint made it back to the bedroom, his hand flew to his nose. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! How was one person producing that many pheromones?

“The water, Clint,” Bruce stated firmly, giving him a pointed look.

He dropped his hand, grinning sheepishly. But… damn. How the hell could Bruce stand it? “Are you okay? You know… to be here?” he asked as he handed over the bottle.

“I was a doctor in a third world country for a rather long time,” Bruce said calmly, “ _They_ didn’t have air filtration and sound proof rooms during their heats. You learn to cope.”

Well, shit. “Good. Then… I’ll just- leave you to it.”

He couldn’t stand seeing Tony like this. Bruce had to help him sit, holding the bottle to his lips as he drank. When he’d had enough, he turned his head away. He still hadn’t looked at them. Taking the washcloth from Phil, Bruce used it to wipe away the blood that was dripping from his lip.

“I… hate you,” Tony said. The water had helped, but his voice was still gravelly.

“You don’t mean that,” Bruce replied kindly, folding the cloth and resting it on his forehead.

“I do. I hate- you.” His voice broke, giving way to heartrending sobs.

The door opened again and Rhodey stepped in. It took him a second to catch his breath when the scent hit him, but he recovered more quickly than Clint. “Jarvis told me I might be needed.”

“Good. Get over here,” Bruce said, standing. He was more hurt by Tony’s words than he was letting on. “I’m going to go get some ice packs and call Simmons.”

Thankfully, as a beta, Rhodey wasn’t as affected by Tony’s scent as an unmated Alpha would be. He took Bruce’s place immediately, running his hand through his friend’s sweat-soaked hair comfortingly. Tony actually opened his eyes then, fixing them on Rhodey.

“Hey,” Rhodey said softly, giving him a little smile.

“Don’t- give me that.” Tony looked away from him. “You’re just as bad… as the rest of them.”

Rhodey frowned, but kept carding his fingers through his hair. “Tony… we’re only doing this because we care about you.”

His muscles seized again, but it wasn’t nearly as violent as it had been. “If- you really cared,” he said through gritted teeth, “You’d just- give me the… the damn suppressants.”

Nobody said anything. They knew he was in pain and his mind wasn’t thinking rationally. They had expected him to behave this way. Rhodey stayed with him the rest of the night, changing the cloth on his forehead, replacing the ice packs that Bruce had set beneath and beside him in an effort to cool him.

Tony slipped in and out of sleep. Each time he awoke, Rhodey, Phil, Clint, or Bruce would suffer his anger and verbal attacks. He yelled at them, which just hurt his voice more, and cursed at them and told them he hated them. He told them how cruel they were for just sitting there and doing nothing.

They knew he didn’t mean a word of it.

In the morning, Natasha and Pepper took over so they could get some rest. Sam joined them around eleven, bringing with him chicken broth and orange juice. Pepper even managed to get him to eat it. But that was only natural. She was Pepper, after all.

It was mid-afternoon when Steve decided he’d had enough of doing nothing. “I’m going up there,” he said, standing from his spot on the sofa, “Is anybody going to try and stop me?”

Phil shrugged. Tony was going to have to get used to Alpha pheromones eventually. And Steve had been on edge all day. He wasn’t about to stand in his way.

“Do you- want me to come with you?” Clint asked. Because he was nervous about letting Steve go alone.

“I’ll let you know if I need assistance,” Steve replied succinctly, turning on his heel and making his way to the stairs.

Clint turned to Phil. “Is this a good idea?”

“The way he’s been, you want to be the one to get in his way?” Phil asked.

Clint glanced in the direction Steve had gone, then leaned back. No way in hell…

 

Steve slipped into the room as quietly as he could. The second he inhaled, he felt his hindbrain roar to life. Then he looked at Tony, and every instinct he had shifted immediately to provide and protect mode. However, whatever scent he’d given off in that instant had been enough to draw the attention of every person in the room. Including Tony. Maybe especially Tony.

He whimpered, trying to squirm his way as far up the bed as he could. Steve cursed his body’s natural physiological reaction. Damn it, he had more control than that!

“Can we help you with something?” Pepper asked, shifting so that she partially obstructed his view of Tony.

“I’m here as your relief,” he said calmly, raising an eyebrow at her. Pepper was tough, but she couldn’t possibly think she could take him in a fight.

“Just you?” Natasha said. She _could_ take him in a fight, beta or not.

“I cleared it with Phil,” he stated, knowing that while she might challenge him, she wouldn’t challenge the agent’s decision. Then he softened his tone. “Look, you don’t have to worry. I just… I need this.”

That seemed to be enough for them. Pepper still looked hesitant, but she followed Natasha and Sam out the door. Once they were gone, he turned his attention to Tony, who was still obviously frightened. He had curled in on himself, as much as his rigid muscles would allow, and he continued to whimper softly.

“Tony.” Steve kept his tone deliberately gentle. “Look at me.”

His eyes opened immediately, locking with Steve’s.

“Good.” Now that that was done, he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. “You know me, right?” When Tony nodded, he sighed in relief. “Then you have to know I’d never hurt you. Somewhere in that big brain of yours, you’ve got to recognize that fact.”

Tony seemed to be thinking about it, but he was slowly uncurling as Steve spoke.

“I’m just here to help,” Steve said, taking a cautious step forward. Tony didn’t seem to notice, so he took the opportunity to cross the room entirely and seat himself next to the bed.

“Why?” Tony asked, the state of his voice making Steve wince.

“Why am I helping?” Steve said, “Because I care about you.”

“I…” Tony cleared his throat. “I’m hearing- a lot of that. I still… think you’re all full of shit.”

“Language,” Steve quietly reprimanded. He sat completely still, not wanting to frighten him again.

“Really? I’m dying- dying over here,” Tony said, grimacing at the pain speaking caused his throat, “And you’re telling- me to watch my language?”

“You’re not dying,” Steve said, his tone gentle again, “This will pass, Tony.”

He shook his head. “It- won’t. I’m not…” He swallowed convulsively, fighting the tears that sprang to his eyes. “Just- go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, leaning forward to place a hand on his cheek.

Tony jerked away from him. “Wh- what are you doing?”

“I just wanted to see if the cold packs had brought your temperature down,” Steve replied, his brow furrowed.

Tony’s eyes were wide and he was shaking in a way that Steve suspected had little to do with his muscle tension. “You can’t… do that.”

“Check your temperature?” Steve said, still confused.

“Touch me. You can’t- you can’t touch me,” he stated, obviously terrified.

“Why? Because I’m an Alpha?” Steve asked, “You let Bruce touch you. And Phil and Pepper. Why am I any different from them?”

Tony just shook his head. “You can’t,” he said, his tone bordering on desperation, “You can’t. I-” He was cut off as his muscles seized again. Steve watched helplessly, wishing that he could do something to ease his suffering, until the episode subsided. Tony collapsed onto the bed, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please… just leave. Just- I can’t… send Rhodey in. I want Rhodey.”

“Jarvis already sent for me,” Rhodey said, entering the room. He gave Steve a sympathetic smile. “I can take over, if you want.”

Steve nodded, leaving the room silently. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done to make Tony so fearful of him. He didn’t know why he seemed to react more intensely to his presence than anyone else’s. But he wasn’t going to let Tony hide from him for the rest of his life. They had grown rather close over the last few years and Steve would be damned if he’d let something as insignificant as status separate them.

A few days passed like this. The muscle tremors continued, eased but never quelled completely by the medication. They continued to care for him in shifts, feeding him soft foods and keeping him hydrated, changing his ice packs. Clint and Phil were the only ones Tony would allow to bathe him and, despite their claims of having “seen more of Tony Stark than they ever wanted”, they were secretly touched by his level of trust in them.

Thor was a surprisingly big comfort, as well. Even though he was an unmated Alpha – and it _had_ taken Tony a bit to get over his immediate fear and nervousness – his presence eventually seemed to be a soothing one. When Rhodey commented that he was surprised, both at Tony’s ease with him and Thor’s level of control, Thor had laughed.

“I am not 200 years old anymore,” he had said, “Had I not, by now, learned to manage myself, I would be sorely disappointed.” Then he had added, “And the bond between Tony and I is a brotherly one. He need not ever have fear of me.”

Tony even seemed to have accepted Bucky’s company. Though that was only after Bucky strode easily into the room, smirked at him, and told him quite rudely, “You reek, man.”

That left Steve as the only person who gave him any difficulty. He still wouldn’t let him touch him, still flinched whenever he entered the room. Steve spent a lot of time wondering why that was and what it could possibly mean. So far, he had narrowed it down to a few possibilities. A) Tony didn’t feel that they were as good of friends as Steve had. B) The super soldier serum had enhanced his pheromones to a level so intense that his mere existence was now extra-threatening to Tony in his vulnerable state. Or C) Steve hadn’t been as good at hiding his attraction to the man as he’d thought, and Tony had known all along, or at least suspected, that he felt something more for him than friendship and camaraderie.

He doubted that it was Option C, though. He’d have been out on his ass if Tony had even the slightest inkling that Steve’s intentions were anything less than pure. Especially given the lengths he’d gone to in order to keep his orientation a secret.

Regardless of the reason for it, Steve kept returning. He was determined to earn back Tony’s trust, so he’d sit with him for a few hours each day. Sometimes quietly, but other times he’d talk. Or listen as Tony called him some very creative names. But it seemed to get easier for him each time, being around Steve. He always went into the room alone, only calling on Rhodey or Bruce when Tony needed something, and he always left feeling a little better than before.

About their improving relationship, anyway. _Nobody_ could feel good about what Tony was going through. The fever persisted in spite of their efforts and he continued to experience violent mood swings. He’d be doing almost okay one moment, then shift to vehement rage in the blink of an eye, and then, for seemingly no reason, dissolve into hysterical sobs.

They all agreed that the emotional toll this was having on him far outweighed the physical.

Until, that is, his fever suddenly spiked on the fifth day. He’d seemed alright that morning. At the very least, he wasn’t any worse. And then, around lunchtime, he just seemed to turn. His fever rose almost dangerously high and his breathing became labored and raspy.

Bruce gave him something to open his airways, but said there wasn’t any more they could do for the fever than what they already were.

By the time they finished dinner that evening, they were all well and truly worried. He’d barely eaten anything the entire day and only seemed to be getting worse. Even so, Steve insisted on his time with Tony. Naturally, he was only afforded it after reminding them that Jarvis was monitoring his vitals 24 hours a day. And Bucky called _him_ Captain Henpeck…

He was sitting quietly – mostly because Tony had been sleeping when he’d relieved Thor and Rhodey – when Simmons showed up. She smiled at him when she entered the room and he felt a little better for seeing it. If she wasn’t worried, being the only expert they knew on this particular subject, then it couldn’t be as bad as it seemed.

“I’m just here to draw some blood,” she said, “I need to run some more tests to see if the suppressants he was on had any… adverse effects.”

He stood, offering her the chair. “What kind of effects?”

She looked uncertain. “I’m not sure if I should discuss with you without Tony’s permission. It’s a bit personal.”

He frowned as she took a seat. “Is it- bad?”

“We won’t know until I run the tests,” she replied, sighing as she pulled out the equipment she’d need, “I had hoped he’d have time to e-mail me that formula before this set in…”

“If he didn’t have so many pass codes for everything, we could have sent it to you ourselves,” Steve said wryly.

“Yes, well….he had reason to be so secretive,” she stated, reaching out to gently prod the juncture of Tony’s elbow.

He woke the moment she touched him, eyes wide as they darted around the room before settling on her. He gave a tiny smirk and opened his mouth to speak, but then he noticed the needle in her hand. He recoiled from her, his gaze becoming distant and unfocused. Shaking his head, he folded his arms across his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits.

“Don’t want it,” he said.

Simmons glanced at Steve. “Tony, I’m only here to draw your blood.”

He continued to shake his head. “I don’t want the medicine,” he said, more firmly, “It hurts.”

She reached out to him again and he jerked backwards, bordering on panic. “I said I don’t want it anymore, Dad! Just leave me alone already!”

Steve felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Tony was obviously trapped in some kind of childhood memory. But… he’d said _Dad_ , hadn’t he? Was it really Howard who had done this to him?

Simmons spoke as softly as she could, trying to get through to him. “Tony, I’m not your father. I-”

“No!” he screamed, tears now flowing freely down his face, “It hurts! I don’t like it! Why do I have to take it?” His eyes flew around the room, landing on Steve. “Mom! Mom, tell him! Tell him I don’t need it! You said it was okay! You said you were proud and I- I was fine the way I was! I don’t wanna be an Alpha! It- hurts… hurts so much…”

Steve didn’t think. He didn’t have time to think. His body was moving on its own, crossing the distance to the bed in a few short steps. He slid onto the sheets next to Tony and drew him in close. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly, ignoring the way his hindbrain reveled when the man pressed his face into his chest, “Nobody is going to make you take any medicine. Never again.”

“You promise?” Tony sounded so frail. Steve had spent a lot of time wishing he could go back in time since he woke up, but he’d never wanted it as bad as he did right then. If only so he could punch Howard in the face.

“I promise,” he said, careful to keep the anger out of his tone.

Tony came back to himself the way you broke the surface of the ocean, with a deep, gasping breath. He pushed back a bit, looking around the room. Steve could actually see the exact moment when he realized what had just happened. He could practically smell the shame coming off him in waves as he closed his eyes, trembling.

Simmons seemed to recognize that as her cue and silently slipped out of the room, leaving them alone. Steve pulled him close once more, rubbing little circles on his back. He didn’t speak, didn’t what he could even say, but offered support and comfort in the best way he knew how.

Tony eventually steadied himself enough to look up at him and attempt to glare. “I thought I told you not to touch me,” he said, but his voice lacked any real temper and his hand remained tightly fisted in the front of Steve’s shirt.

“Shut up, Tony,” he replied, smiling fondly.

They looked at each other for a moment more before Tony finally slumped, boneless, against his chest. Less than a minute later, he was asleep, too exhausted to resist the lure of slumber when he was feeling so warm and safe and too delirious to think much about what that meant.

Steve wasn’t delirious. But he didn’t _want_ to think about it. For the time being, he just wanted to savor the feeling of having Tony actually depend on him for once. Trust him. Even if it was just the fever or the delirium, Tony had responded to _him_ , had allowed him to give reassurance, had fallen asleep in the circle of his arms.

He breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of the omega. He was safe. He had probably never been as safe as he was in that moment. Steve wouldn’t hesitate to kill anybody who even looked like they were thinking threatening thoughts in that moment. The thought was terrifying. And exhilarating. He felt needed, trusted. Satisfied.

He tightened his hold just a bit, realizing just how much he’d wanted this feeling. The only question that remained was, now that he had it, how was he ever going to let it go? _Could_ he let it go?

He decided not to think too hard about it. For now, he would do what he did best. Provide and protect. It was what he was made for, after all. So he relaxed, letting his mind wander where it pleased. He would deal with the future later and try to make the best of whatever came.

 

That was how Bucky and Sam found them, Tony curled into Steve as he slept, Steve sitting against the headboard, eyes closed, but no less alert. He growled softly, just a quiet rumble in his throat, when he smelled another Alpha, but his hindbrain recognized the scent as Bucky’s a second later and it subsided.

“Well,” Sam said, raising an eyebrow at them, “This is new.”

“Shut up,” Steve replied, not bothering to open his eyes, “You’ll wake him.”

Bucky just grinned. “So, when you came to me four months ago and asked about relationships between two Alphas…”

Steve did open his eyes then. “Bucky,” he said warningly, “Not the time. Or the place.”

Sam looked surprised for a moment. Then he smiled. “Man, I must be dense. I can’t believe I never noticed-”

“ _Guys_ ,” Steve said a little more urgently, glancing at Tony, “Seriously, not now.”

“All I’m saying is it works out pretty nicely for you, this secret omega deal,” Bucky said, wincing at his friend’s icy glare, “Fine. Got it. Not another word.” To Sam, he added, “ _Alphas_ , am I right?”

Steve rolled his eyes, disentangling Tony from him as gently as he could manage and slipping out of bed. “I’m gonna go get some air,” he said as he passed them.

He heard Bucky chuckling as he shut the door.

He decided to go for a run. The fresh air would clear his mind, not to mention the overwhelming scent of omega from his nose. Maybe he’d run to Central Park. He hadn’t been there in a while and the little slice of nature in the middle of the urban jungle always helped him organize his thoughts.

He didn’t make it more than seven blocks before his phone went off in his pocket. He saw that it was Pepper and answered quickly. “Hello?”

“Rogers, you have exactly six minutes to get back here and explain yourself,” the woman growled.

“Excuse me?” He was too confused to get his back up at the challenge in her tone.

“Tony is absolutely _frantic_ and for some reason, he keeps asking for _you_ ,” she stated, “None of us can calm him down. Not even Rhodey.”

 _Shit_. “Five minutes, tops,” he said, hanging up without saying goodbye. No time for manners.

He was at the Tower in three minutes, in the room in four. Tony was on the bed, eyes shut as he seized violently. As soon as it passed, he collapsed, breathing heavily. Everybody had gathered, presumably to each try their hand at getting him to cooperate with either Bruce or Simmons. As it stood, they couldn’t even get near him. Every time they made an attempt, he would flinch and whimper, curling in on himself further and further.

“Where’s Steve?” Tony asked quietly, “I want- you said… he was coming.”

He took a deep breath, avoiding the curious stares of his friends and teammates as he crossed the room. “I’m here, Tony,” he said.

Tony’s face immediately turned to him at the sound of his voice. “Steve. I-” He was cut off by another spasm.

He was at his side in a heartbeat, instinct taking over as he knelt by the bed. He grabbed the fresh, cool washcloth off of the bedside table, running it over Tony’s face and neck until the tremors eased and he relaxed again.

“Steve, I… I just-”

“Shh,” he said gently, resting the cloth on his forehead. He turned to Bruce. “I thought the medicine was helping with this.”

Bruce tried not to be offended at the accusatory tone. “It would if he’d let me give it to him.”

“I don’t- want the medicine,” Tony gasped, “Medicine… hurts. You- you promised.”

Steve sighed, throwing caution to the wind as he climbed into the bed. He glared at the others, daring them to say something, _anything_ , about what he was doing. They very wisely chose to remain silent. He leaned against the headboard the way he’d done before, but this time he gently pulled Tony so that he was sitting with his back to Steve’s chest.

“I did promise,” he said quietly, “But this isn’t the medicine that hurts. It’s different.”

Tony relaxed a bit against him, but shook his head. “I don’t-”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, his voice a bit more stern, “You need to let Bruce give you the muscle relaxant.”

He seemed to struggle with his words. “But…”

“No buts.” Steve lowered his voice so that only Tony could hear him. “I swear this won’t hurt you. I’d never let anyone hurt you, Tony. So, please, do this for me. I can’t stand seeing you in pain.”

Tony exhaled on a relieved sigh, nodding as he held out his arm obediently. Bruce hesitated, but, when Steve gave him an expectant look, proceeded. Steve was glad to feel some of the tension ease out of him within moments.

“Didn’t hurt,” Tony said, letting his head fall back onto Steve’s shoulder, “Feels… better.”

“Told you so,” Steve quipped, earning a breathy chuckle.

“Tony,” Simmons said softly, seeming to be the only one not shocked of their mind, “Would you let me draw some blood now?”

He opened his eyes and looked questioningly at Steve. When he nodded, he closed them and held out his arm again. As soon as she was finished, Steve nudged Tony lightly. “I need to go talk to Pepper now.”

Tony whined, turned to bury his face is his neck. “Can’t.”

He glanced up at the woman in question and saw the smoldering look in her eyes. “I have to. But I’ll be back.”

“Promise?” Tony asked, making him smile.

“Promise,” he replied, easing Tony off of him.

He barely made it into the hallway.

“What did you do?” Pepper growled, shoving him into the wall.

He barely managed to restrain his own temper. Clenching his fists at his sides, he forced himself to remain calm. “When Simmons showed up earlier, he had some kind of fit. Thought she was Howard. I helped him out of it.”

“If that’s all that happened, why is he…?” She growled again, turning her back to him and running a hand through her hair.

“I don’t know,” he replied, “As far as I can tell, I didn’t do anything that you or Rhodey wouldn’t have done. So I don’t know why he’s suddenly- reacting like this. A couple of hours ago, I still wasn’t even allowed to touch him.”

She spun around, looking at him strangely. “What?”

“He had this rule. I wasn’t allowed to touch him for any reason,” he said, his brow furrowed in confusion, “Is that somehow significant?”

She chewed her lip for a moment, then sighed. “I’m not sure. I think… I need to think.”

Abruptly, she took off down the hall, her speed just shy of a jog. This left Steve with far more questions than answers and a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he’d missed something important. Remembering his promise to Tony, though, he shook it off and went back in the room. He’d have to find time to talk to Pepper again soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bigger gap between chapters this time. Unfortunately, as much as I want to just write 24 hours a day, life just won't allow it.

Steve did not find the time to talk to Pepper. In fact, she seemed to be avoiding him. Every time he saw her – which had been less frequently since she’d gone back to work – she’d find some excuse to leave the room. Or the Tower. Honestly, though, he couldn’t really blame her.

Tony was supposed to be her best friend. She had probably assumed, like the rest of them, that he would turn to her for support. Instead he had, for whatever reason, turned to Steve. Steve, who had until recently been nothing more than a casual acquaintance with whom he occasionally teamed up to save the world. No big.

Sure, in the past several months since he’d converted Stark Tower into the Avengers’ home and headquarters, they had gotten closer. It tended to happen when you lived with a person. But they still weren’t on the same level as he’d always been with Pepper and Rhodey.

Steve didn’t know if it had something to do with him breaking the “no touching” rule or if it was just the instinctual drive to seek out the strongest Alpha. Not that he thought he was the strongest Alpha. Not by any means. In a hands only fight, Thor could take him. Probably. At the very least he’d win at arm wrestling.

But nobody could deny that he was the most _Alpha_ of the Alphas in the Tower. And possibly anywhere else. That was the serum’s fault, though. Dr. Erskine had taken a skinny, sickly Alpha from Brooklyn and turned him into the embodiment of everything that _was_ Alpha. Everything was enhanced. His physical form, his strength, his cognitive abilities, his senses, and, most importantly, his pheromones. Before the serum, no omega alive would even give him a cursory sniff. Now, he made omegas, betas, and Alphas alike stand up and pay attention just by walking into a room.

He still wasn’t used to that.

And he’d never thought Tony would be among them. The man had always seemed completely unaffected. He’d never paid any special attention to him, never deferred to him or gave him any more respect than he gave anybody else. Which was to say, none. Not until he earned it, anyway.

It was a massive drawing point for Steve from the beginning. He’d always liked that about Tony. I mean, yeah, sometimes he wished he’d actually follow orders or stick to the flipping plan, but… that was just Tony. He’d _thought_ that was just Tony.

Now he was thinking that maybe all that posturing had just been his way of overcompensating for the fact that he’d been born an omega. He hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t know who Tony would be without that certain swagger and devil-may-care attitude.

Although… he had an idea. The delirium had persisted for two more days, causing Tony to slip in and out of panicked hallucinations. He barely let Steve leave his side to take care of personal necessities during that time. Thankfully, nobody was questioning the strange twist of events yet. They were all too busy making sure Tony stayed alive long enough to recover.

When the fever did finally settle back to a semi-manageable temperature, they breathed a collective sigh of relief. He seemed to improve little-by-little after that. He still clung to Steve like a lifeline and he wasn’t exactly his usual snarky self, but he began to eat more solid foods and gained enough strength to make it to the bathroom on his own.

“Thank God, too. I don’t think I could have survived that particular indignity much longer,” he had said, the only real glimpse of his former self that they received. It was hope enough for Steve.

Unfortunately, like all good things, it couldn’t last forever. It was only a few days later that the nausea and vomiting Simmons had mentioned set in, bringing with it a lot more crying and something else they were ill equipped to handle from the man. Begging.

Through his tears and his heaving, he would _beg_ them to “please, if you love me, if you care about me, if you have any shred of decency left in you, just _give me the suppressants_.” Each time they told him no, he would start crying even harder which would just exacerbate the whole vomiting thing, leading to more begging. It was a vicious cycle.

Eventually, begging segued into bargaining. He’d show up at debriefings more often if they gave him the suppressants. He’d listen to Steve in the field. He’d go to stockholder meetings with Pepper. He’d give them money, houses, weapons, labs. He promised to be good, stay out of the tabloids, behave himself in public. He’d go to church, stop drinking, live a morally inscrutable life, if they would only give him the drugs and stop the torment.

At one point, he even stooped to offering sexual favors.

“You would prostitute yourself for suppressants?” Steve asked as he rubbed Tony’s back while he retched into the toilet.

“I’ll do- anything you want,” he replied when he managed to catch his breath.

Steve smiled sadly, offering him a glass of water and helping him to stand. “Don’t let Bruce hear you saying stuff like that. He’s been a bit on edge lately and that might upset him enough to push him over.”

“ _He’s_ been on edge?” Tony muttered irritably, but he allowed himself to be tucked back into bed.

“We’ve all been on edge, but Bruce has even more so,” Steve said, pulling the covers over him, “You know he feels responsible, Tony.”

“He’s an idiot,” Tony stated, then flinched, casting his eyes downward, “Sorry. I shouldn’t…”

Steve sighed. He’d lost count of how many times they’d had this conversation. “You don’t have to apologize. My being an Alpha doesn’t mean you can’t speak freely around me.”

He didn’t say anything. He never did. He had already slipped back into that timid, submissive state of mind that he seemed to have adopted when the fever spiked. Simmons said it happened sometimes, in cases like his.

Suppressants apparently inhibit the hormones that create an omega’s instinctual, biological drive to honor, serve, and obey. In a healthy, well-balanced omega, this natural behavior would be reserved only for the people they have chosen on some level and to some degree, usually parents, superiors at work, close friends, or their mate. Much the same way an Alphas instinctual drive to cherish, provide, and protect is targeted only toward those people they choose to embrace as a part of their family. (Some people prefer to call them “packs”, but Steve had never cared much for that. It was too… animalistic and humans were _supposed_ to be evolved creatures.)

According to Simmons, an omega going through suppressant withdrawal will sometimes overproduce those hormones. The body does this, she said, to offset the effects of the drugs and flush out the artificial hormones that have allowed them to pass as an Alpha. As a result, they are often more overtly submissive for a time and may comply with any order given by an Alpha regardless of their relationship. How long this phase lasts depends entirely on the suppressants’ period of use, their strength, and the disposition of the omega in question. In rare cases, the omega’s body would continue to generate the hormones in excess for the remainder of their lives.

Steve prayed that this wouldn’t be one of those cases.

By day twelve, the vomiting had ceased and Tony was doing fairly well once more. He was still very docile around the Alphas and sometimes around Natasha, but he had started insulting Clint again. They took that as a good sign.

“Seriously, for such a crack shot, you really suck at this,” Tony was telling him after lunch.

He and Clint were sitting together on the bed, backs against the headboard, with a stack of graph paper between them. Directly across the room from them was a small, round garbage can. On the floor, near the can – or near _ish_ – were dozens of little paper triangles.

“I do not suck at this,” Clint retorted, picking up another piece of paper, “It’s just that some of us aren’t genius engineers who can make perfectly aerodynamic projectiles in our sleep.”

Tony held a triangle between his thumb and middle finger, closing one eye and ignoring Clint’s muttered “s’posed to keep both eyes open” as he lined up the shot. He flicked it with his other hand, letting out a triumphant whoop when it sailed in. “Don’t make excuses, Barton. Own up to your suckiness,” he said, making a tally on the notepad he’d set on the bedside table, “That’s 11 to 3 now, by the way.”

“It’s not an excuse, it’s the truth,” Clint argued, “If I had better ammo, I’d be smoking you right now.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, handing over one of the triangles he’d stockpiled while Clint struggled to make them one at a time. “Fine, O Dexterous One. Go ahead. If you make this shot, you can use mine for the rest of the game.”

Smirking, Clint accepted it. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He held it up, aimed, fired, and…

“Hey, I brought some-”

“Damn it, Steve!” Clint exclaimed as the triangle bounced off his shoulder. He had entered the room and walked right into his shot. “I totally would have made that! You saw, Tony, I know you did. I demand a mulligan!”

Tony wasn’t listening. As soon as Steve walked in, he had diverted all attention to him, as he did whenever any Alpha came into the room. But especially Steve.

“I see you two have been having fun,” Steve said, chuckling at the mess they’d made, “I hope you realize you’re cleaning this up, Clint.”

“I can clean it,” Tony said immediately, moving to get off the bed.

Steve put a hand on his shoulder. “You need to rest. I know you’ve been feeling better, but it will put all of our minds at ease if you don’t stress yourself too much.”

He settled back, nodding once, and didn’t say anything else.

“So, as I was saying when I so rudely interrupted your game,” Steve said, grinning at Clint, “I brought you some ibuprofen for your headache. Simmons said it was okay, as long as you don’t take more than two at a time. It might not get rid of it, but it should take the edge off.”

“Thanks,” he said, letting Steve drop the pills in his hand.

In truth, Bruce had cleared it earlier that day, but Steve was taking care of some business with the press. They’d made this big cover story about Tony being injured in a fight and sent to a top secret facility to recover. You know… since nobody knew exactly how long he’d be out of commission and he probably wouldn’t want them telling people the truth. As expected, it hadn’t taken long for people to notice that their favorite superhero slash scandal machine had seemed to mysteriously disappear.

Pepper handled the press when it came to Tony Stark, but Steve, as team leader, was responsible for any press covering Iron Man. Sometimes he wished he’d never gone public. Secret identities really came in handy. Bruce was never asked to make statements or go to press conferences.

So, while Bruce had gotten the okay, they had to wait for Steve to return to get the meds to Tony. Because he wouldn’t accept any medication unless Steve was present. Whenever they had asked him _why_ he needed Steve there, he would just shake his head and keep quiet. They stopped asking after a while.

When Bruce had bitterly shoved a bottle of pills at him as soon as he walked in the door, he’d known exactly what the problem was. He also knew that it was eating at the other man that Tony only seemed to trust Steve. He tried to reassure him that it was just because of his condition, that it would pass, but that only upset him more. Probably due to the fact that nobody knew for sure if it _would_ pass. As Simmons had told them on numerous occasions, every omega reacted differently to suppressant withdrawal.

“Wait,” Steve said when he went to pop the tablets in his mouth, “Did you eat lunch? It’s not good to take ibuprofen on an empty stomach.”

“I ate,” he replied, keeping his gaze downcast.

Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How much did you eat?”

Clint made a rude noise and handed Tony a glass of water. “He ate enough to take two over-the-counter ibuprofens. Stop wigging out, man. You’re starting to sound like a mom. Or worse. Like Phil.”

Tony looked at him for permission – which just made Clint sigh in frustration – and he nodded. Apparently, Tony was pretty thirsty, because he drained the water with the pills, setting the empty glass in Steve’s outstretched hand. “Thanks,” he said again.

Steve placed a hand on his head, smiling gently for a moment. “You’re welcome. I’ll leave you guys to your game, then,” he said, heading for the door. On the way out, he called over his shoulder, “Hope you get your mulligan, Clint.” He shut the door to angry cursing.

As soon as he was gone, Tony sighed, letting his head fall back with a dull thud. “Why does that always happen? It’s like… I know in my head that I don’t have to- to act like that. But as soon as I smell him- them. Alphas. As soon as I smell Alphas… my body just- does its own thing and I can’t talk or look them in the eye and I do whatever they say…” As he spoke, he absentmindedly folded a piece of graph paper into a swan.

“It’s not your fault,” Clint said, keeping his tone casual. He may as well have been talking about the weather or rising gas prices. “They know that. Your chemistry or hormones or- whatever… they’ve got your instincts on the fritz, you know? You’ll even out. Don’t worry so much.”

“How do you know? Even Simmons said it differs from case to case,” Tony argued, “This really would be much simpler if you-”

“Ask for the suppressants one more time,” Clint said, aiming a triangle directly at his head, “I dare you.”

He just stared at him for a minute, one eyebrow raised in a silent query of _seriously_? Then he laughed, long and loud, until tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. “Oh, man,” he said when he could breathe again, “Really? A little paper… that was about as threatening as a bunny.”

“You ever seen Monty Python?” Clint asked, grinning.

Tony gave him a two fingered salute. “Fair enough. And I get it, alright? Nobody is going to give me suppressants. You’ve all made it abundantly clear that I have no choice in the matter. I’m doomed to exist as-” He cut himself off, wincing at the cold glare he was receiving. “Sorry.”

Clint looked away, fiddling with one of the rubber bands they had used for their last game. “You won’t go back to the black market, will you?”

He scoffed. “Hardly. I think I’ve had my fill of what they consider ‘quality goods’.”

“Good. Because that would be extraordinarily stupid,” Clint stated, nudging him with an elbow, “It’s not so bad, you know. Being an omega.”

Tony didn’t respond to that. Instead, he picked up one of his triangles and held it out for him. “How about that mulligan?”

Clint smirked, taking it from him. “My, my, you _are_ a generous benefactor. Also an idiot who is, in the immortal words of our dear Asgardian friend, about to be taken to the Hall of Learning.”

They both laughed at that, remembering how long it had taken to teach Thor the appropriate Midgardian vernacular. And then the game resumed and, much to Tony’s dismay, Clint _did_ smoke him as soon as he had well-made ammunition in his hands. He never should have given the bastard a mulligan…

Simmons showed up much later that night, at nearly nine o’clock, looking quite somber even for her. She apologized for the last-minute house call, but they wouldn’t hear of it. She had become sort of a regular at the Tower and was welcome any time, they said.

“I just need to…” She held up her medical bag, grinning sheepishly at Steve.

He sighed, but walked with her to Tony’s room. “Clint’s been in there almost all day.”

“Causing trouble?” she said, chuckling.

“Surprisingly, no,” he replied, “In fact, I think he’s done a lot of good.”

“Well… let’s hope he’s done enough,” she said cryptically, entering the room behind him.

“Simmons is here,” Steve announced, making Tony look up at her, “She just needs more blood.”

“I’m actually here to talk, as well,” she stated, taking the empty chair. Clint was still comfortably settled on the bed.

“Do you want us to leave, Tony?” Steve asked, feeling like this may be a sensitive subject.

He shook his head vigorously. “It doesn’t… seem like it’s gonna be good news. Stay.”

Simmons set the bag down near her feet, folding her hands in her lap. “It’s not really good _or_ bad news. I had hoped to come here with one or the other, but… I’m afraid the tests I ran were inconclusive.”

Tony swallowed convulsively. “What- tests?”

She glanced at Steve. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have this conversation in private?”

“Just tell me,” he said impatiently.

“Well… the thing is…” She took a deep, fortifying breath. “Suppressants, when used for long periods of time, have been known to cause- complications for many omegas. Reproductive complications.”

Clint tensed, not liking the sound of that. But Steve… Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Tony grinned and it was a bit too… manic for their liking. “Complications like… what? My cycle’s gonna be off or something?”

She looked too serious, too sad. “Complications like… sterility.” She rushed on. “But the tests were inconclusive. That’s why I’m here. To collect more blood and – if you’ll allow and are feeling up to it – conduct a complete physical.”

“You- you said ‘many’ omegas,” he said, pressing a hand over his eyes, “How many? What are we talking here, percentage-wise?”

Steve moved a little closer, ready to come to his aid if he displayed even the slightest hint of a panic attack.

“The exact numbers fluctuate and-”

“Doc.” Tony uncovered his eyes and his gaze was cold. “Just tell me.”

“Ninety percent,” she answered immediately, “But we still don’t know the exact nature of the suppressants you were taking and that’s quite a large factor.”

“Jarvis, send the e-mail. Now,” he ordered, “Send her everything, the formula, Doc Bennett’s notes, my charts, all of it.”

“I’ll compile the requested information and send it right way, Sir,” Jarvis responded.

“You said… something about a physical? That’s like a… gynecological type thing, right?” he asked.

She nodded. “Only if you’re feeling well enough.”

“I’m fine,” he said, waving a hand dismissively at her, “But… can we do it in the bathroom? It should be big enough. You could park a hummer in there, really.”

“Of course,” she said, standing and following him as he walked to the door.

He sounded like his old self. Steve didn’t know if that was good or not, but all he could do was wait with Clint while they did… whatever they were going to do.

“Sterile…” Clint said quietly, drawing his attention. He was clutching at his stomach with shaking hands, his expression a combination of disbelief and despair.

Steve sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay,” he said reassuringly, “Whatever happens… we’ll make _sure_ he’s okay.”

Clint nodded, but his face didn’t change. “Right. Yeah, we’ll… he’ll be- fine. I mean, he’s Tony Stark, right? He’s like… genetically driven to defy nature or something.”

Steve smiled, tightening his grip for a moment before dropping his hand. He hoped Clint was right.

They returned after about thirty minutes and Steve winced when he noticed that Tony was walking a bit strangely. He did not, under any circumstances or for any amount of money, want to know what had transpired behind that door. He stood and helped the man back onto the bed, trying his best to hide his growing anxiety.

Tony’s face was blank as she collected two more cylinders of blood. Packing everything away, she said she’d be back in a few days with the results and took her leave. As she stepped through the door, Steve put a hand on her arm.

“He’s- there’s still a chance, right?” he said, searching her face for any sign of lingering hope.

She smiled, but it looked forced. “Yes. There is still a chance. Just- promise me you won’t leave him alone. I’ve… grown somewhat fond of him and I’d hate to see him do something stupid.”

He jerked back like he’d been struck. “Tony wouldn’t…”

“His hormones are still unbalanced and he’s just been told that there’s a large chance he’s no longer able to do the one thing that every omega is supposed to be capable of,” she said, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve seen news like that break omegas who were much less fragile than him.”

He recalled Clint’s stricken face as he cradled his abdomen. “I understand. We’ll keep him safe. Anything else we can do?”

She touched his hand gently. “Pray.”

As she disappeared out the door, all he could think was, _I’ve been doing a lot of that lately._

He returned to Tony to find him still staring absently into space. Worried that he may be in shock, he reached out to touch his arm. “Tony?”

He blinked twice, then turned wide, wet eyes on him. “Steve… Oh God, Steve. What- what have I-”

He sobbed brokenly and Steve sat on the bed, pulling him into his lap. He’d lost weight in the last week and a half, making the motion even easier. He made little shushing noises and rubbed his back, petted his hair, but nothing would calm him.

“I- I didn’t… I don’t know- why I’m even crying,” Tony gasped between his sobs, “I never- wanted kids anyway. Or- I thought I didn’t. Maybe I did, I don’t know. But now…”

Clint got up silently and slipped from the room while Steve tried to tell Tony that he didn’t know anything for sure yet. That he shouldn’t get so worked up over something that might not even be true. Tony just continued to weep into his chest, soaking his shirt with his tears.

Several minutes had passed when Clint returned, followed by Phil, who took one look at the usually confident, acerbic man and exhaled on a despondent sigh. “Oh, Tony…”

He turned toward the sound of Phil’s voice, wiping at his eyes furiously. “Phil, I- I did a… a stupid thing.”

Crossing the room, Phil held out his arms, smiling sympathetically. “Come here, Tony.”

He seemed reluctant to leave the safety of Steve’s lap, but eventually slid off the bed and into Phil’s embrace. Of course, as soon as the agent’s arms came around him, he broke down again, too completely wrecked to feel shame for crying all over everybody.

Phil held him tightly, whispering gentle reassurances into his hair for, until the body-wracking sobs eased to quiet hiccups and little sniffles. Then he released him, holding him at arm’s length and looking into his eyes. “Alright, listen up,” he said, his tone kind but firm, “You’re going to do three things right now, Tony. First, you’re going to take a nice, warm bath and let me wash your hair.” Tony opened his mouth, but snapped it shut when Phil raised an eyebrow at him. “I am aware that you can bathe yourself. You are still going to let me wash your hair for you.” He continued when Tony gave a small nod of agreement. “The second thing you’re going to do is eat the raspberry sorbet that Thor went out and braved that awful organic supermarket to get for you.”

Tony perked up a bit at that. He knew exactly what store he was talking about and their raspberry sorbet was his absolute favorite. He was touched that they had gotten it just for him and even more so that they had remembered.

“The last thing you’re going to do,” Phil said, “Is get some sleep. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Tony responded softly.

Phil grinned at him. “Yes, what?”

He rolled his eyes a little, giving him the tiniest smirk. “Yes, _Sir_ , Mr. Agent, Sir.”

“That’s more like it,” Phil stated, chuckling as he ruffled his hair.

Tony ducked away from his hand, scowling. “Jeez, man. Leave me a _little_ dignity.”

Clint laughed, punching him lightly in the arm. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Steve watched, baffled, as Phil seemed to know exactly what to do and say and exactly _how_ to do and say it. He’d never imagined that being stern with Tony would be what received results. He supposed it was probably something that came with experience, so it made sense that Phil would be better equipped to handle a hysteric omega. Though, he _really_ couldn’t imagine that Clint was often hysteric.

Then again… he remembered the way he’d reacted to hearing that Tony might be sterile. Maybe Clint wasn’t the rock that Steve thought he was. He realized, then, that he didn’t actually know much about him. Or about any of his teammates, really, save Bucky and Sam. He’d taken everything they appeared to be on the surface at face value and never tried to get to know them any deeper.

He knew next to nothing about their pasts, about their struggles, about their fears and their dreams. Well, wasn’t he just an ass. Of course, when they’d gotten together in the past they had been pretty busy with the whole saving the world thing. But they lived together now. Had for almost 9 months.

It made him wonder how much – or how little – they knew about each other.

“Steve?” Phil’s voice drew him from his thoughts.

“Um. Yes, Sir?” God, he hoped he hadn’t been trying to get his attention that whole time.

Phil wrinkled his nose. “Save the “sir” stuff for when we’re on the job. At home, I’m just Phil, remember?”

He nodded. “Yes, Si…” He tried to ignore Clint’s snickering. “Sure thing, Phil.”

“Better. Could you please go tell Thor that he can bring the sorbet up in about an hour?” Phil asked.

Steve very nearly asked why. Then he realized that was Phil’s polite way of telling him to go away. He grinned, nodding in compliance, and vacated the room. He could take a hint.

He found Thor sitting quietly at the kitchen table with Bruce. Which was odd, because Thor rarely did anything quietly. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that probably hadn’t been empty since they brought Tony home and pulled up a chair of his own.

“So…” he said tentatively, not sure he should say anything to break their silent contemplation.

Bruce looked up at him and he was struck by how worn and weary the man looked. Steve supposed he always looked at least a little tired – keeping a “giant green rage monster” on lockdown was probably exhausting – but now he just looked… drained. His hair was a mass of tangles, his clothes were wrinkled, his skin was paler than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes were looking more and more like actual bruises every day.

“Simmons already told us,” Bruce said, taking a sip of what Steve _hoped_ was tea, “I mean… I knew. I knew it was a possibility. That was a big reason they were banned in the first place. But- ninety percent. I had no idea…”

“He’ll be okay,” Steve said. He knew it was the right thing to say, the only acceptable thing to say. He just wished he believed it with as much conviction as he conveyed in his tone.

“Perhaps,” Thor said, “I should go home. Mother would be able to do something. She has helped many in Asgard and Midgard alike with their child-bearing problems.”

Steve shook his head, giving him a small, grateful smile. “Tony hates magic.” Honestly, it made Steve a little uncomfortable, too. “He’d never accept it and I don’t want your mother to go through all that trouble for nothing.”

“Truly, this idea that Asgardian science is some kind of… hocus pocus would be insulting to anyone more easily offended than I,” Thor stated, grinning wryly, “But I know you’re right. He would refuse.”

“Still, there are options,” Bruce said, staring into his cup as though it held answers to all the mysteries of the universe, “Modern medicine has come a long way, especially where it pertains to omegas. I suppose- Tony has a lot to do with that.” They all knew that he donated massive amounts of money to medical research on several problems that specifically affected omegas. He’d also been a champion for omega rights all his life. And now they knew why.

“In any case, I think the best thing we can do for Tony is act like we don’t know,” Steve said, “He won’t want everybody tiptoeing around him like he’s some wounded animal.”

Bruce chuckled weakly. “Are you kidding? He’s going to kill us anyway as soon as he’s feeling better.”

Although it was half-hearted, the statement seemed to put Thor in better spirits. He thumped the table with his fist, laughing. “I look forward to the challenge. It will be good to have our iron friend back at our sides in battle.”

“Speaking of battle,” Bruce said, his brow furrowed as he looked at them, “Hasn’t it been a bit too… quiet lately? I mean, no Hydra, no AIM. Even Doom seems to have taken a break.”

Steve shrugged. “They’re probably too busy trying to figure out who put Iron Man out of commission. Whatever the reason, I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I’d rather it _stay_ quiet until Tony’s up and at ‘em again.”

“Really?” Natasha strolled into the room, looking like she’d just come from the gym, with the loose clothes and towel draped around her neck. She pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, draining half of it in one long drink. “I’m surprised at you, Steve.”

“Where’d Colonel Rhodes go?” Bruce asked, quirking an eyebrow at her, “You didn’t kill him, did you?”

She smirked. “Jimbo went home to nurse his wounded pride. And several well-placed bruises.” At Steve’s questioning look, she elaborated. “Rhodes was feeling froggy after Simmons put us all on 24 hour Tony-watch. I asked him if he wanted to sweat some of the tension out and he made a rather… _insensitive_ comment about my gender.”

Steve winced. The man really should know better. He’d seen first hand what Natasha was capable of in a fight. “The match must not have lasted long,” he said, “It’s only been about a half hour since Simmons left.”

“Of course it didn’t,” she stated haughtily, taking a seat at the table with them, “I squashed him like a bug. Then I told him to get out of here until he’d be able to look at Tony without pitying him.”

“Smart,” Bruce said, “I think he’s one of the last people Tony would want feeling sorry for him.”

Steve nodded, then decided to change the subject. “Now, why are you surprised at me?”

“Hm? Oh, that.” She leaned back, taking another drink of water. “I’m surprised that you’re sitting here talking about Tony going back in the field.”

Steve glanced at Bruce and Thor, but they seemed just as confused as him. “Why would that surprise you?”

She gave him a blank look. “Seriously? With the way you’ve been behaving lately?”

Okay, now he was getting a little annoyed. “And just how have I been behaving?”

She laughed, but it was a harsh laugh. “Like you’ve staked some kind of Alpha claim, growling and snarling at everybody who crosses into your territory.”

“I do not,” he said, rolling his eyes, “That is a gross exaggeration.”

“Is it?” she said challengingly, “Barnes says you’ve growled at him at least three times when he walked into that room. What about you guys?” She turned to the other men. “How many times has he gotten his hackles up on you?”

“Go ahead,” Steve urged, “Tell her how crazy she sounds.”

Bruce grinned apologetically. “Actually… you do get a little pissy with me. Just at first, though. You always settle down once you realize it’s just me.”

“I have also been on the receiving end of your- pissy-ness?” Thor said, smiling triumphantly when Natasha nodded her approval of the phrasing, “I take no offense, of course. If it were Jane in this situation, I would act much the same.”

Steve did _not_ want to hear that from the man. Really. “So I’m a little protective. Tony’s my friend and he’s going through a rough time. It’s perfectly normal to feel protective of the people you care about.”

“Yeah, well we won’t even get into the whole alleged ‘just friends’ thing,” she said, continuing before he could defend himself, “The point is that you have been so far beyond _over_ protective that I’m surprised you’re going to _let_ him back into the field. I thought you’d at least put up a fight.” She smirked. “Actually, I was kind of looking forward to it.”

“First of all, there’s nothing to ‘get into’. We _are_ just friends. End of story,” he stated coolly, “Secondly, in case it’s escaped your notice over the past couple years, nobody _lets_ Tony do anything, least of all me. And lastly, I would never presume to tell him that he had to quit being Iron Man. That’s who he is. It’s as much a part of him as Captain America is to me, or Black Widow is to you. It’s not something you can just stop.”

She actually _looked_ surprised, which was weird because nothing ever surprised Natasha. Then she grinned, slowly and with maybe a bit of satisfaction. “Good. This just might work out.”

“What?” he snapped, still feeling some of that surface temper.

She stood, tossing the now empty bottle into the trash can. “Don’t worry about it, Cap. You gentlemen have a nice night,” she said, leaving them alone again.

“I don’t think she will ever stop frightening me,” Thor said after a moment of silence.

Bruce huffed out a laugh. “Join the club.”

Steve scowled, running a hand through his hair. “Now I need the gym,” he muttered, getting to his feet, “Oh yeah. Phil said to bring the sorbet up in- well, I guess it would be about forty-five minutes now.”

Thor nodded and he headed for the gym. There was a newly reinforced heavy bag with his name on it. He just hoped his current mood would be improved by the time he demolished it.

 

Tony, meanwhile, was trying not to fall asleep and drown in the tub. Not that Phil would let him drown. He knew from experience that the man’s gentle, mild-mannered personality was matched only by his strength and swift reflexes. Freaking _ninja_ reflexes. And, apparently, his magic fingers. He sighed at the soothing feeling of said fingers massaging shampoo into his scalp.

Seriously, the man was wasted at SHIELD. He should be working at some spa in the Alps or one of those ridiculously expensive hair salons in Beverly Hills. He’d probably make better money. Of course, then Tony wouldn’t be able to enjoy his services pro bono, so maybe it was better that he worked for old One-Eyed Wonder.

“You should be nicer to Fury,” Phil said, grinning.

Tony opened his eyes, brow furrowed. Okay, could he _actually_ read minds? Because that would be terrifying.

Phil laughed at his expression. “You were talking out loud, Tony. And while I appreciate your praise of my magic fingers and ninja reflexes, I still think you should ease up on Fury.”

Tony started to stammer a response or a denial or _something_ , but then Phil dug the pads of his thumbs into that spot on his neck, right at the base of his skull, and he melted into the water. The jerk. “Why should I?” he mumbled instead, “He never eases up on me.”

“That’s only because he cares,” Phil stated, “He might kill me for telling you this, but he’s called me at least once a day to check on you.”

“Yeah?” Tony murmured.

“Yes,” Phil stated, “Now, tilt your head back and keep your eyes closed.”

He obeyed, sighing as the suds were rinsed from his hair. Phil let him soak a while longer and he had to admit that it was nice. Once he’d gotten over his initial embarrassment at being nude in front the agent – and been reminded that the man in absolutely _no way_ thought of him sexually _ever_ – these little moments had become some of his favorites.

He hadn’t been pampered like this since he was a kid, when his mother would bathe him and comb his hair before bed. It was kind of nice, being taken care of and spoiled. He wouldn’t admit it even under pain of death, but he could allow himself to enjoy it privately.

They spoke about little things, inconsequential things, like the weather, which was apparently hotter than usual for early May, and Clint’s strange obsession with his new boots. According to Phil, he wouldn’t shut up about them. They were comfortable and durable and easy to clean and _so_ stylish. Apparently, Natasha was one boot-related comment away from setting the things on fire. With Clint still in them.

After his bath, he was dressed in his softest pair of pajamas and tucked into bed. True to his word, Thor arrived just moments later with a bowl of raspberry sorbet, which he handed to an eager Tony, and took a seat by the bed to keep him company while he ate.

Clint joined him on the bed and whined until Phil brought him a bowl of hazelnut gelato, making Tony laugh. Thor entertained them with an Asgardian game that was similar to Rock-Paper-Scissors, but was much more involved and maybe just a tad violent. If you used your imagination.

And nobody brought up his possible… condition. In fact, they were quite good at keeping his mind off of it. So good that by the time he closed his eyes to sleep, he had almost forgotten about it entirely. Almost.


End file.
